


There’s no Point in Titling This

by Roundworm



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, don’t fucking look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roundworm/pseuds/Roundworm
Summary: Truth be told, Tom was scared to pull back. He was afraid that Schofield would suddenly snap out of it and push him away, maybe beat him down just for good measure and report him to army command. Schofield was such a quiet, reserved man, but there’s always a first time for everything.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 12
Kudos: 211





	There’s no Point in Titling This

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine comes for us all. I have no choice but to put this out into the public eye

Schofield kissed like a man in a drought and Tom was the first glass of water he’d seen in a decade. He crowded around Tom, forcing him up against a wall, and though his kiss was bruising, his hands remained gentle on the sides of his face.

Tom was far more than willing to try to keep up. He wrapped his arms around the back of Schofield’s neck, pulled him in impossibly closer, widened his stance to allow it. Schofield fit quite nicely there, between his legs. Ever eager to carry on, Tom swiped his tongue along Schofield’s bottom lip and was thrilled to find him so immediately compliant.

He felt one of Schofield’s hands leave his face and trail down along the side of his neck. It found its home there, sliding around to the back and securing a hold on his scruff. Maybe Tom should feel threatened by this, having another man’s hand on his neck, but he was never exactly normal to begin with, so it wasn’t a total surprise when it drew an excited whimper out of him instead.

Tom was dreadfully inexperienced. He’d never had any interest in kissing girls, and boys would have laid him out, so he just didn’t try at all in the end. He hated that he’d never even practiced now, because that meant he had to separate from Schofield when his lungs began to burn—although, if he were to suffocate, he’d be fine with it as long as his mouth was still on Schofield’s.

Truth be told, Tom was scared to pull back. He was afraid that Schofield would suddenly snap out of it and push him away, maybe beat him down just for good measure and report him to army command. Schofield was such a quiet, reserved man, but there’s always a first time for everything. 

He didn’t realize his eyes were welling up until Schofield was wiping his tears away, his hand still open against his cheek as if to prove Tom’s fears wrong, like Schofield knew exactly what he was thinking. 

“It’s alright...” Schofield soothed, his voice small and intimate. He ducked his head to kiss up the side of Tom’s neck—he seemed to have a thing for Tom’s neck—and moved his other hand from his face to his hip. Tom bit back a shuddering gasp, allowing only a short huff of breath to escape. Apparently emboldened, Schofield used that hand to hike Tom up on his thigh and scraped his teeth along Tom’s pulse.

Tom dropped his head back against the wall behind him and pulled incessantly on the lapels of Schofield’s uniform, silently begging for more attention to be lavished across the expanse of his throat. An inaudible laugh rumbled in the depths of Schofield’s chest, Tom could feel his smile against his skin, and he shifted forward to lick a stripe up his Adam’s apple. 

Even the slightest movement caused Tom’s crotch to rub up against Schofield’s leg. He couldn’t help the soft moan that forced its way through his clenched teeth, the way his whole body jerked of its own accord. 

Schofield hummed, sounding pleased, and maybe Tom didn’t have to feel quite so embarrassed about how sensitive he was. A hand dragged slowly up and down his side, as comforting as it was teasing, and Tom didn’t have time enough to complain before Schofield bit down sharply, right beneath his jawline. 

Tom’s surprised yelp tapered off into a needy whine. “You are a horrible little man...“ he hissed, chest heaving. Schofield laughed out loud this time and kissed the angry red mark apologetically. He released the nape of Tom’s neck to hold his other side and rocked his knee forward, drawing another noise out of him. 

Tom forced himself to lift his head away from the wall, hiding his face in the crook of Schofield’s neck to muffle his voice as his hips kicked up to chase the feeling. His hands found their way blindly to the back of Schofield’s head, where his cropped military cut was beginning to grow out.

“Fffuck—Scho,” Tom tugged at Schofield’s hair, allowing himself to be pressed flush between the older man’s body and a brick wall. Schofield’s breathing stuttered a bit in response to the pull, and Tom couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk that grew on his face. At last, he had something he could use against him.

Of course, that thought flew out the window with a well-timed grind of Schofield’s hips and a quiet groan, just barely loud enough to be heard. Tom’s hands slipped and scrambled for purchase on Schofield’s back, clinging to the rough fabric and whining into the collar of his uniform. 

Tom found an uneven rhythm on the older man’s thigh, his breathing equally so, and Schofield’s hold on his hips tightened.

“That’s it, love,” Schofield encouraged, breathless and achingly hard against Tom’s leg. “Good, that’s good…” Tom trembled beneath his praise, snapped his hips particularly hard, and pulled his face away from Schofield’s neck to drag him down for another kiss, if only to hold what was certain to be a wave of compliments back once Schofield inevitably noticed the way he reacted.

“Scho, I—“ Tom pulled away just enough to speak, breathing his plea against Schofield’s lips. “I want…”

“What do you want?” Schofield asked quietly when Tom fell silent, an overpowering sense of shame sealing his mouth shut. “Don’t be embarrassed, I’m in no place to judge.” 

Tom laughed, a high, anxious sound, and ducked his head to hide his face. “I really want to suck you off.” 

He felt the shiver that ran through Schofield’s body, heard the sharp intake of breath right next to his ear, and suddenly Schofield’s hands were off of him and making quick work of the ridiculously complex button work of his uniform trousers. Tom laughed again, genuinely this time.

“Excited, are we?” He grinned, even though nerves made his hands shake. 

“Quiet, you.” Schofield muttered distractedly. He paused though, when he’d gotten the front of his trousers only halfway open, and pulled Tom back far enough to look him in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

Tom couldn’t possibly nod faster. Even if he wasn’t so completely sure at the very start, with every single fiber of his being, the hints of a smile on Schofield’s face and the softness behind his eyes would have been far more than enough to convince him.

As though in a trance, Tom sank down to his knees and hastily tugged the rest of the buttons apart to relieve Schofield of his—surely painful at this point—confinement. Schofield ran a hand through his hair, practically oozing with affection. 

“Who’s excited now?” He teased, not unkindly. Tom scowled up at him, although he couldn’t help but melt under the attention.

“Shut up and pull your cock out, I’m not doing all the work.” Tom demanded, just to get a laugh out of him and ease his own nervousness. Schofield made a noise somewhere between a sputter and a snort, but did as he was told. Tom counted it a victory. 

Tom’s hands were still shaking when he took hold of Schofield. “Blake,”

“You can’t talk me out of it.” Tom interrupted quickly. “I want to do this, I swear, I’m just…” 

Schofield’s hand once again found its way to Tom's face, his thumb rubbed tenderly along his cheekbone. “Take your time.” He murmured. “Don’t rush yourself. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Tom’s bottom lip wobbled just slightly at the verbal confirmation, but he pulled himself together. Crying all over a guy’s dick wasn’t exactly seductive and he needed all the help he could get right now. He took a deep breath, centered himself, bolstering up his courage underneath the comforting rhythm of Schofield’s thumb on his cheek.

Tom leaned forward and took him into his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut against the remnants of shame that clouded his vision. He wasn’t completely sure what to do next, wasn’t sure what to do with his hands—if he was supposed to do something with his hands at all. Tom hadn’t received a blowjob in his life, much less even thought about giving one before now. He had to improvise.

Schofield had since returned to petting through his hair and Tom was distraught at the reminder that he was blowing a very quiet man. Oh god, he wouldn’t even tell Tom if he was doing something wrong, would he? 

He was clumsy, his hand hadn’t steadied its tremor from where it stroked what Tom couldn’t fit in his mouth—which was, admittedly, the majority of Schofield’s dick. Tom could feel him flinch when his teeth scraped dangerously along the underside. This was a terrible idea, Schofield didn’t deserve to be used as his crash test dummy. He retreated after not too long, feeling defeated.

For some reason, Schofield looked surprised at Tom’s glum expression. He must not have very high standards if he wasn’t immensely thrilled that Tom’s mouth was no longer on him.

“‘M sorry,” Tom huffed, frustrated and close to tears again. “That was bloody awful, fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Schofield crouched down to his level, shifted a bit on his heels and tucked himself back into his trousers with a not-so-subtle grimace of discomfort. “Didn’t think so.” He furrowed his brow. “Just… inexperienced.”

“Inexperienced, yeah, that’s one word for it.” 

“Curious.”

“Horrid?”

“Eager.” Schofield smiled lightly, fondly, and brushed aside the messy curls of hair that came down across Tom’s forehead.

Tom deflated. “So you enjoy getting your dick bitten off, then?” Schofield chortled under his breath.

“Well, I enjoy you.” 

As if that explained everything. As if Tom could completely muck everything up, could stumble through every single interaction with his foot in his mouth the entire time, and Schofield would still come back for more, over and over, without a second thought. ‘I enjoy you’.

Tom glanced down at the pavement beneath them, then looked up again. “Can… Can I try once more?” He asked hesitantly. With a meaningful look and no further words exchanged, Schofield stood back up. Of course he could try again. As many times as he wanted to.

Because Schofield enjoyed him.

No, he didn’t suddenly become a savant at sucking cock—unfortunately, Tom thought to himself, because that title was ace—but the crushing fear of inadequacy had been lifted from his shoulders, at least in part. The trembling in his hands subsided well enough, and when Tom freed Schofield’s erection again, he pressed an apologetic kiss to the tip. ‘Sorry for all the trouble, you’ll be taken care of properly now’.

To make things easier on Tom, Schofield talked him through it as best as he could—he counted himself lucky though, when Scho couldn’t seem to find his voice at times. Tom still slipped up occasionally, still accidentally let his jaw relax while Schofield was in there, but he didn’t immediately give up again.

“Easy, easy,” Schofield’s breathing audibly stopped for a second when Tom went too far for his skill level and choked, eased Tom’s head off of him a bit even though the feeling of his throat tightening up around him must have been heavenly. “I told you not to rush yourself, you funny little thing.” 

Tom stared up at him and reached for his hand, trying not to think too deeply about how much he enjoyed gagging himself like that. Schofield’s smile was so terribly fond when he took it.

The smile dropped a bit when Tom led Schofield’s hand to the back of his head. Tom fixed him with a look that said ‘pull me off again and see what happens’.

Tom eventually found a rhythm, started getting used to it, and he was rewarded handsomely for his efforts when the older man’s head dropped back with a drawn-out moan. He was still far from perfect, but damn did Schofield make him feel like he was the best he’d ever gotten. Tom’s jaw ached something awful. He pushed on.

“Oh,” Schofield fisted a handful of Tom’s hair. “You’re so good, Blake, you’re so good for me.” Tom’s throat closed up instantly and he had to yank his head back to avoid chomping his dick clean off. Schofield let go immediately as Tom hacked up a lung, and apologized, even though he clearly didn’t know what for.

“I’m,” Tom croaked, pausing to cough a few more times and catch his breath. “Good— for you?” 

Schofield flushed red up to his ears (that was new). “I wasn’t—I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean to say that.” Tom rushed to hold onto Schofield’s legs, as if the man would suddenly disappear or run away if he wasn’t touching him, and finally managed to hold eye contact.

“I’m good.” He breathed in awe. “Wanna be good. For you. Please.” Tom didn’t know what he was begging for. Schofield’s Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he choked on what was sure to be another slew of apologies. He nodded eventually, stunned into silence.

Maintaining that eye contact, Tom spat into his palm and wrapped it around the older man’s cock, jacking him off with a hand no longer shaking from nerves, but from desperation. His eyes slid closed again as he sucked the head into his mouth, his free hand reaching down to grind the heel against his painfully hard dick.

“Christ—“ Schofield’s hand clamped back onto the base of Tom’s skull, his other hand searching blindly for something in his uniform. “Blake, Tom, wait— pull off, I’m—“ 

Consciously choosing to ignore that, Tom only sunk further down to the tune of Schofield’s startled groan. Of course, he almost instantly jerked back when he felt cum hitting the back of his throat. 

He really needs to start thinking further ahead.

Chest still heaving as he came down from his orgasm, Schofield settled down on his heels in front of Tom and tugged a cloth out from one of the fifty-thousand pockets on his uniform. Ah… so that’s what he was looking for. 

“I warned you.” He scolded, voice winded as he wiped what didn’t make it into Tom’s mouth off of his chin. “I told you to pull off.”

“What would be the fun in that?” Tom managed to get out when he wasn’t coughing. Schofield shot him a withering look, but it softened almost immediately into an exasperated smile.

Somewhere in between the time it took for the cloth to be tossed aside and for Tom to stop coughing, he glanced down at himself and froze. Tom looked back up in time to accept Schofield’s gentle kiss—far too chaste for what just happened.

“That was wonderful, you are wonderful.” He sighed quietly, reverently. Dazed into silence, Tom barely managed to stop Schofield’s hand before it trailed down his body to return the favor. The older man blinked in confusion.

“Uh.” Tom looked away, trying to quickly come up with an excuse that wasn’t ‘actually, it turns out I came in my pants from sucking your dick, like a freak.’ It was too late though, because he caught Schofield’s gaze traveling downwards. “Do not laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.” Schofield said, suppressing a laugh.

“I can see you laughing.”

“I’m not!” He ducked forward to kiss Tom’s forehead (he could feel Schofield laughing now). “Why would I laugh? It’s cute.” Tom groaned loudly and pushed Schofield’s face away, but immediately tugged him back down for another kiss.

“You’re the worst.” Tom sighed contentedly, leaning into the hand that began combing through his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> The entire fandom really be like praise kink time


End file.
